Circus Roots
by xrockinrobin
Summary: Based on Performance. Robin organized the mission behind Batman's back. So two questions are begged: why did he, and how did Batman respond?


One-shot based on Performance. Anyone else fall in love this episode? (If only there had been flashbacks! -sigh-)

Characters owned by DC and CN, but of course, you all knew that.

* * *

Bruce's grey irises bore into the computer screen, one hand subconsciously rubbing the stubble on his chin. His cowl pooled around his neck to expose his scrutinizing features under the bright light of the console. A series of break-ins across Europe, all with consistencies. He'd noticed them a while back, but now _Interpol_ was beginning to notice, which meant the media would shortly follow. And by extension, Dick.

Everywhere Haly's Circus went, a break-in followed. There was without doubt a connection. Someone in the circus was guilty, and whoever it was had the potential of being part of Dick's extended 'circus family' - unless it was a new arrival. He was banking on it being a new arrival, which was the number one mistake in detective work. Lack of objectivity.

He shut his eyes and rubbed the creases in his forehead. He kept his suspicions from Dick because he didn't want his ward to overreact. He wanted to solve the case without subjecting his surrogate son to the ghosts of his past. So he wouldn't have to associate any _more_ bad feelings with his first home. He didn't want Dick to obsess over it.

The faint click of the grandfather clock echoed through the cave.

"Minimize." Video surveillance, frozen picture stills and newspaper headlines all rushed into an encrypted folder: HAL47C.

Because that's what a younger version of himself would do. Obsess over it.

"Hey, Bruce, finished my science project. That mean we're on for the drug bust?" Robin's light footsteps ended as he nimbly transferred his weight to his hands and walked forward on his gloved palms. His muscles flexed as he shoved off from the ground and arced his body in a graceful flip, landing lightly near the computer console.

Bruce rose to his full height and pulled his cowl over his face. "Black Mask won't know what hit him."

-v-v-v-v-v-

7 PM. Bruce Wayne was giving a speech at a charity benefit, while his ward was busy working on a research paper on America's Civil War and _unfortunately_ couldn't make it. Or at least that was the excuse he used. Alfred drove Bruce to the benefit which meant this was probably his only chance. It was Bruce's fault, really. Batman was the world's greatest detective, deeming Robin the world's second greatest detective. It was these skills that caused him to notice Batman's secret project. He tried to access the file casually before, but it was heavily encrypted. Definitely Batman's way of saying, "Don't. Touch." Bat-glare included.

But he was Batman's partner. It was a two for one deal, whether Bruce wanted to accept that or not. If there was something going on, Dick refused to be excluded from it. So whatever HAL47C is, prepare to be hacked.

He halted a few feet from the grandfather clock and accessed his holographic computer through his glove- the only piece of his uniform he was wearing at the moment. Whenever Bruce was absent from the manor, he set up proximity alarms to let him know when the Batcave was being accessed, be it from inside the mansion or by breaking in past the stalactites. Dick tapped away at the virtual keyboard. "And… proximity alarms six, eleven and twelve disabled." He reached out and turned the delicate hands of the clock to 10:47. The entire grandfather clock swung on its hinges with a gentle click, and he traversed into the cave silently.

Bats screeched from their perches while leathery wings flapped overhead. The cave's computer lit up at his touch as he sank into the leather chair at the console and rapidly typed in a lengthy password.

"_Robin recognized._"

"Access HAL47C."

"_Voice signature denied._"

"Of course…" he muttered. "Override RG1C."

"_Override denied._"

Alright, he didn't really expect that to work… It was painfully obvious that Bruce set up the file with a vendetta to keep him from accessing it. Which meant he'd have all his typical hacks covered… Well, there was one way to figure _that_ out at least.

He unclasped a USB cord from his glove and plugged it in. His fingers flew across the holographic keyboard and-

"_Breach in progress. Lockdown imminent._"

"What- override RG1C!"

"_Override accepted_. _Lockdown aborted._"

"Okay, not doing that again." He ran a hand back though his hair. He could design a new hack that the computer wouldn't recognize, but that would require time, which he didn't have at the moment. He sank back into the chair and drummed his fingers over the armrest in minor frustration. What was so important about 'HAL47C' that he couldn't know about it? Something involving Hal Jordan maybe? He reached out and plucked the USB from the computer, casting a critical look at the computer screen.

Bruce designed the file for only him to access. So think like Bruce… he probably limited the ways of accessing the file to voice pattern alone, and it wasn't like he could just deepen his voice and expect a highly sophisticated computer to fall for… _Wait… maybe he could…_

The batcave had surveillance, just in case it was accessed by someone that wasn't allowed. And _surveillance_ he had access to. He resumed typing into his handheld computer and retrieved video logs from the past three days. He wouldn't have to sift through dozens of hours of film waiting for the magic words. He knew the last time the file was accessed. Last night before their patrol Bruce tried to hide it, but… He smirked and slid his finger over the volume control.

Bruce's commanding voice spoke with clarity, "_Computer, access HAL47C._"

"_Voice signature recognized. Access granted._"

Files flew across the screen in chronological order, overlapping in some places with phrases highlighted in red. Dick was instantly taken aback. All over he saw the same words. _Haly's Circus._

His satisfaction was decidedly short-lived. He hadn't been expecting that.

His blue eyes took in the information searchingly: a news article debriefing a break-in at a Lyon, France research facility, and then an advertisement for Haly's Circus with dates aligning to the theft. Madrid… Rome… It was a pattern. Not even one or two times… it was _six_. The connection was impossible to ignore. Someone in the circus was pulling the thefts…

He scrolled down to the most recent articles and found an Interpol report from a few days back. A report that was heavily bearing down on Mr. Haly. They suspected him of covering for his performers over highly skilled thefts. 'Potentially the ringleader.'

And Bruce kept this from him? Haly was practically a grandfather to him. Bruce knew that, and yet he kept it from him. He exhaled a frustrated breath. How hard would it be to clear Haly's name? Hang out at the circus for a week; keep watch over the performer trailers at night, and then nab whoever sneaks out. It was a piece of cake operation. So why did Bruce try so hard to hide it from him?

_He thinks you'll go emotionally off the handle._

Which was typical of him. It was just like Bruce to think he was _protecting_ him by keeping him in the dark. As if discovering that someone he grew up with was a thief would be the end of the world for him.

And now because Bruce didn't trust him to keep a clear head, Haly was in danger of losing the circus. The circus was his first home. He wouldn't let it break up and go out of business. He wouldn't let his family's legacy die. And he _wouldn't_ let Batman stop him. He jabbed his USB back into the computer.

"Copy the file to my device."

"_Copying HAL47C… Transfer complete._"

"And delete the log history from 7:08 to…" he glanced at his computer's internal clock. "7:36 PM."

"_History deleted_."

-v-v-v-v-v-

"_Robin, B-zero-one._"

His body materialized in the cave, exposing him to the smell of a rice stir fry. And since he missed dinner by not waiting for Alfred to get home… it _was_ tempting to his rumbling stomach. The sizzling pan grew louder as he approached the kitchen. "Hey guys," he greeted, plopping onto a stool.

M'Gann spun around, wooden spoon in hand. "Hey, Robin!" she acknowledged enthusiastically. "I'm trying some oriental recipes. Hungry?"

"Please, I'm starved."

"Thought you were doing the whole 'dynamic duo' thing tonight," Artemis pointed out. "Don't tell me you guys work _that_ fast."

"Not even. There was a change in plans. Batman's tracking down a lead on his own and sent me with the mission detail- Thanks, M'Gann," he interrupted himself as the Martian set a steaming bowl of rice topped with greens, water chestnuts, and walnut pieces in front of him. "Pass the soy?"

Artemis shot him a skeptical look as she pushed the dark bottle across the table. "And Batman was too busy to debrief us on his own because?"

"_Ouch_. I'm sensing hostility."

She smirked. "I'm ever the cynic."

"Whatever the mission is, I'm down." Connor stretched his arms back, the muscles stretching beneath his skin. "Better than hanging in this cave all day."

"Bruges sound good?"

"Bruges… as in Belgium?" Artemis shrugged. "I'm in. I'll give Wally a call. I bet he'd run here in a heartbeat just for their waffles." She ended the comment with a roll of eyes.

"Don't bother," Robin interrupted a little too hastily. "Already rang him. He's busy with the Flash tonight. Debrief in five, alright guys?"

-v-v-v-v-v-

Bruges. December 23, 1:38 CET.

He exhaled deeply, his frozen breaths vanishing in the wind in wisps. "Maybe Wally was right," he muttered to himself, walking past the next poster. He didn't want Wally to be here to cast those _looks_ at him. Those 'I know what you're feeling beneath the surface and I'm really, really sorry, bro' looks. But what if he wasn't being objective? He kept defending Haly every chance he got. That wasn't the sign of a level-headed detective.

He inhaled sharply as a huge black object whipped past him and landed disturbing the snow around it. "Batman," he breathed. His hair was standing on end.

Batman rose to his full height, eyes narrowed beneath the cowl. "_Explain yourself_. _Now_."

His startled heart was still thumping against his chest. He wasn't used to being on the receiving end of Batman's ambushes. Yeah, he expected Batman to call via comlink, lecture him, but then agree he was already in too deep to leave now. He was _not_ expecting a visit in person. Dick ran his hand through his hair with a sigh. Before he had been planning to face this confrontation angrily. Accuse Bruce of keeping things from him, not trusting him. "I found HAL47C. The file on Haly's Circus."

"You'll explain how you accessed that file once we're back at the cave," Batman growled coldly. "_Continue_."

Judging by Batman's tone, he was in more trouble than he formally thought… "I just couldn't stand the thought of Haly being implicated. The circus would shut down, everyone would be broken up."

"And if Haly _is_ guilty?"

"He's not-" he stopped himself at Batman's disapproving frown. "I mean, I know it's a possibility, but Interpol is already investigating the old man. They're not putting their energy toward some of the other suspects. With the team around we can cover more bases."

"Which brings us to your next mistake: _Involving the team_. Worst case scenario, you just revealed your identity- and by extension _mine_- to a group of teenagers, one of them potentially a _mole_. Best case scenario, none of them will notice the correlation of your eye color, the history of the circus, and your abilities." The second scenario was laced heavily with sarcasm.

Dick averted his eyes. This was why Bruce was pissed. "I told them I'm wearing color contacts… They don't suspect anything."

"_Not _reassuring, but I'll take it."

"Alright, I should have ran this through you first. It was a big mistake on my part, but since you hid this from me, I didn't think you'd let me. I _know_ you were probably just trying to shield me, but so far I've been handling this. I'm not blinded by feelings, not lashing out, I'm just… whelmed. I don't know how else to explain it. When I came here I expected to be hit by all the memories, my family falling to their deaths, all the grief… And I did remember. But I remembered all the good times too. I remembered the thrill of performing for a crowd, of just being subjected to the enthusiasm of the circus. Everyone's so happy here."

Batman seemed softened by the explanation. "Are you not happy?"

The question caught him off guard. What kind of answer was he expecting? His blue eyes gazed over Batman searchingly, but the man was steely faced as usual. "I… yeah. I am. Crime fighting is fulfilling. I feel like I'm making a difference."

"But you'd be happier in the circus."

He felt like he was being analyzed under a microscope lens. He glanced at the poster behind him. _The Flying Graysons_. And what could he say? He grew up in the circus. "Yeah, I would be. If nothing had changed."

Batman's face formed a frown. It wasn't the first time he felt guilty about dragging Dick into this life. He always assumed it was enough for his surrogate son, which made Dick's admission all the more unsettling. "If you ever want to go back-"

Dick's eerie laughter rang out around them. "And leave you to get pummeled by all the bad guys? _Please_, Bruce. You're stuck with me."

A smirk graced his lips. "Don't get too cocky, boy hostage."

Dick groaned. "None of those times were my fault!"

It was a rare moment. Batman smiled.

"Everything else aside, you're handling this mission well. As leader, I expect a full write up when the team returns."

Dick's eyes highlighted his surprise. Batman was actually deeming it an official mission? He actually seemed impressed- no, _proud_ of him-

But then Batman's voice fell flat. "And you'll be doing Alfred's work for the next two weeks. You're grounded."


End file.
